The Curious Derbyshire Custom

During dinner the topic naturally reverted to the odd custom of the Derbyshire ponies.

"There aren't many at any given time, naturally, but when there are, in May there is a great festival in Derby where they compete in contests and the common folk are allowed to enjoy them," Mrs. Gardiner explained.

Elizabeth could scarcely wait to return to her room to witness this strange custom up close.

Her aunt understood her haste and bid her enjoy herself, giving a few parting instructions. Blushing, Elizabeth retired.

Darcy was squatting, his hands laced behind his neck, facing the wall. The tail was no longer restrained by a harness, but she could see that it was retained inside him by some invading presence. He was now naked save for the collar, tail and gag, and his fine musculature shown clear in the candlelight.

The restraint of masculine power thus demonstrated moved Elizabeth, and she yearned to grant the relief that she had heard of. But she was intimidated and hesitated.

First she assumed her night dress.

Then she looked in the bag. There were different tails, attached to phalluses meant to be inserted as she had seen. They varied -- some were long and narrow, others short and bulbed. There were also double-ended such objects, and she grasped their use after a few moments' puzzlement.

The rest of the bag was filled with shackles and an assortment of whips and other items of torment she could not name. She could not bring herself to think of using any of these upon him. His proud demeanor must cover great suffering, she thought, and she longed to bring him some surcease.

Unsure of how to address him, she encouraged him to rise by gentle pressure on his elbow. Gracefully he rose to face her, hands still at the back of his neck, eyes fixed on the distance.

Ashamed by her own ignorance and his calm demeanor, she approached him gingerly. His cock was deep red and she could see where it had been bound.

Hardly believing her nerve, she grasped his cock. He gave no sign of protest or pleasure but stood still as she handled him.

His cock, though, surged in her hand. In its throbbing she felt needed reassurance that this would bring some relief to the sufferer. She rubbed her hand along the hard shaft, the head of which now emitted copious moisture. She anointed her hand, allowing the skin to glide along as she touched him.

His breath came faster as she stroked him, taking her cues from his breathing and the motion of his cock. She drew close, entranced by the strength displayed, and quickly he lost control, filling her hand with his seed.

He dropped to his knees and bowed his head. She could see that the tail had some partway out and she seized the glossy black hair and removed it from him, dropping it on the floor. She wiped her hand on a towel and pressed herself to the kneeling man. He looked up at her, questions in his eyes. She felt tears come to her own as she beheld him but knew not why.

All she knew is that she wished to hold him, and that he hold her. She urged him into bed with her and wrapped her arms around him. He slowly responded, embracing her and pulling her close. Nearly instantly her heart slowed and she felt her breathing deepen in response. She nestled into him and slowly feel asleep.

Distrustful of this seeming hiatus from his endless discipline, Darcy held the girl in amazement. That he was available for private hire always meant more torment, not less. When a pony found relief, it was either for the amusement of their user or an inevitable effect of long use. Never had a master or mistress shown such mercy and tenderness, and some part of himself wondered if it was a trap.

Still, to rest without any harness or phallus save the one in his mouth, laying in a bed, to hold this kind young woman in his arms: It was bliss and he could not resist.

After he had dozed for some time he felt the stirrings of passion once again. He cursed it, but his training had instilled readiness into him.

But there was something more: He desired her. He should not, but her mercy had touched him deeply.

His mind strayed to the treatment that Caroline Bingley had afforded him when she stayed in Derbyshire during a northern tour. She had been delighted with the custom and had made the trip with settling some scores with the master of Pemberley in mind.

Not only had she whipped him raw -- backside, cock and the insides of his thighs -- but also used him long and brutally with the largest of the provided phalluses.

She had sneered as she handed him back to the groom that he had not proved satisfactory, knowing that he would be stationed at the roadside for the common folk to use as punishment. Indeed, she had sat by and watched him tormented by yokels for some time before taking herself off to other amusement.

This girl's gentle treatment, so genuinely tender as to make him half ashamed of himself for doubting. It was a haven, and he lay in awe.

She opened her eyes to find his gaze upon her. The moon still glowed through the window and she snuggled him, secure in knowing they had hours yet. His cock had risen again and pressed her belly against her night dress. She reached for it again, shyly looking to him for some sign of protest, but saw none in his dark eyes.

Her hand was more sure this time, and she caressed him firmly, delighting in the subtle signs of pleasure in his face. At last he buried his face in her breast as he succumbed to the spasms of pleasure. She held him to her, dazed by powerful sensations. This time he could not resist sleep and they dozed off together.

When she woke, she knew it was time to rise. He swiftly removed himself from her bed and resumed his squatting posture facing the wall. She yearned to go to him but restrained herself and instead readied herself for a day of travel.

Her aunt greeted her gaily, asking how she had enjoyed her plaything. She could scarce respond tolerably, and nearly cried when the servant asked her if he could remove the pony to the stables so he could be returned.

She did not think she could bear to part from him again and agreed.

As she and the Gardiners resumed their northward journey to the Lakes, her thoughts reverted again and again to the proud, silent man. Seeing her wistfulness, her aunt promised that they would return via Derbyshire so that she could have him again. Absently, Elizabeth thanked her and bent herself to enjoying the view.